A Wizard's Song of Ice and Fire
by Dark Lord Uzumaki
Summary: Harry's trapped in the Middle Ages. He's alone, without his wand, and no escape. There is no Hogwarts, there are no founders, only war, and destruction. Based on the most violent book of our generation: G.R.R. Martin's "A Game of Thrones"


**Disclaimer: "I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire. I do not own Jbern's Sorting Hat. I make no money out of this, and I am aware of G.R.R. Martin's policy on FFN, and I am tired of waiting for A Dance With Dragons, just like the rest of you. You don't need to read Ice/Fire to understand this story! "-Dark Lord Uzumaki**

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"Or been driven away," their father said, looking at the sixth pup. His fur was white, where the rest of the litter was grey.

"An albino," Theon Greyjoy said with wry amusement. "This one will die even faster than the others."

Jon Snow gave his father's ward a long, chilling look. "I think not, Greyjoy," he said. "This one belongs to me."

**-**_A Game of Thrones_**, **A Song of Ice and Fire**  
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**Chapter One**

A Wizard's Hat, A Wizard's Sword

* * *

**Hogwarts, Chamber of Secrets**

"Potter, run! Run as fast as you can! You have no hope against this beast, even with that sword at your disposal. Take my advice and flee, the girl will be fine. Dumbledore is going to be here soon. If the Phoenix was sent by him then he is aware of the situation at hand."

"But-"

"Go!"

Harry didn't waste another second. He took the sword and raced out of the way of the giant snake. The creature lunged at him, sending dust into the air. The acid in its mouth ate a hole in the ground as it pulled its head out of the stones. It looked at Harry with hunger, and Harry didn't look back. He knew what would happen if he did.

"Potter, give up. You have no hope. Make it easy on yourself and just let me have the girl. I promise, if you stop struggling, I will make it quick, I won't even give a goodbye present, despite how much I want to. If you think the hat and the sword are enough to destroy the Basilisk then you are more foolish then I could have imagined." The man laughed. "What skill have you with a sword?"

He had a point, and Harry understood that. Harry hid behind another pillar as the snake tried to sniff him out. The bird was still in the air, following him and he wanted to give it the signal to distract the snake while he made a plan to escape, but couldn't with the hat yelling in his mind.

"Look, Potter, I could have just laid there on the floor and not given you any advice, but I chose to help. Either you listen to what I have to say or I will return to my original state. Trust me when I say I put myself at great risk doing this. Had I not done anything, Riddle would not have come after me."

"Thank you, that means something," Harry said, but continued, "but it doesn't mean I am going to let Ginny go. I have to-"

"What you have to do is get the snake away from here, quickly! Do you see that giant hole!" Harry turned to the hole, the mouth of Salazar's statue. "I sense portal magic there, go into it. It will lead you outside of the castle. We don't have time to argue, go there this instant."

"Are you sure? What if there are more snakes in there- then what?!"

"And what if there aren't? Potter, take a look at what you are fighting, turn around- no, not literally! You want to be a statue?!" The hat was shrinking to give his head a squeeze; it sent a small throb of mental pain through his prefrontal lobes. "Run, fool!"

Harry didn't hesitate a second time. He ran into the giant hole, hoping the creature wouldn't notice him right away. The phoenix would distract it for a while longer and that was just as well. If he could just have enough time to figure out a plan, he might be able to come out on top. The day was far from over.

The boy covered his ears, hearing the large blasts of spells come from behind. He avoided a few that went into the mouth of the cave and crawled further when the cave became smaller. "Crawl, crawl, that's it boy, that is your only salvation. You don't have time, you have to crawl, thinking of nothing but crawling. I know it's scary but bear with me."

Harry's hands and knuckles started to bleed as the edges of tunnel became sharper. "It hurts, please, there has to be a better way. I know that thing is behind me, but my knees are scraping on the rocks. What if I am just going into a pit of vipers?"

"Believe in me, Potter. Believe in me!"

"But what if-"

Behind him, the mouth of the cave collapsed and the serpent crawled through. Harry didn't turn around. He knew the creature's head was making its way through the gap. Harry wondered how it managed to crawl through this small enclave which barely managed to fit him. The snake must have some magical ability that allowed it to fit through small spaces- that explained its ability to travel through pipes.

"Hurry, it's gaining!" The hat sent a stream of calming magic through Harry's mind. "Concentrate on nothing but crawling, and whatever you do, do not drop that sword! Oh no! Riddle is coming as well!"

"What? How could that be possible?!" Harry asked.

"Riddle isn't made of flesh and blood, boy. He is something called a Horcrux spirit… he is carrying your wand. Potter, continue crawling, just a bit longer and you will be at the exi-"

"Harry, Harry, where are you?" Tom Riddle was gaining. He merged himself into the mind of the Basilisk; he sniffed at the boy's scent. Tom had a few moments of possession from all the energy it had gotten from Ginny, but knew it would only last for a brief moment of time.

He was going to make the most of it. "There you are!" The spirit came out of the Basilisk and the wand was instantly summoned to his hand. "Reducto!"

"Brace yourself!"

Harry was flung further into the darkness, falling further down the tunnel. He looked up to see some light; the curse had broken something. "Potter, follow that light. Get up, and run."

Harry did just that, surprised to see that he didn't need to crawl towards the end of the dark tunnel, his knees and arms bleeding. "That's it, we are almost there!"

Harry saw the exit.

"No! You will not get away!" Harry felt another curse hit his back and he was flung out into the open. "Not before I show you pain!"

The boy crawled out of the way of another curse, and found himself outside.

Outside it was cold. All around him was snow, snow for hundreds of miles, the ground was covered in snow, and he was slowly being covered in snow. It was as if the landscape was a nonstop blizzard.

"Potter, I know you are cold, but get up, run into that forest. I know that your legs have lost a lot of blood but you have to live through this. You have a fighting chance! Riddle doesn't want to kill you, he wants to torture you, get up and move, move, move!"

Harry Potter's legs worked in full throttle. He looked behind him one last time to see the snake's head pop out from the tunnel, and Tom Riddle following. Tom was grinning manically, but as soon as he stepped out of the cave, his body was fading. "What's this?" Harry didn't have time to ponder this, but the hat did.

"He's losing his magic- whatever this place is, it's not tied to Hogwarts. Potter, the more distance you can make between Riddle and yourself, the better your chance of survival. Can you make this one last trip?"

"Yes, I can. But my wand?"

"Riddle has it; he's pointing it at your back. Harry, Apparate!"

"What?!" the boy exclaimed.

The hat didn't give the boy a choice. It sent memories into the boy's head, memories of how to teleport through vast distances. It was botched and confusing, but it would be enough for the boy to get out of there. The curse that was coming his way was "Fiendfyre!"

Harry tripped and turned around to look at the giant Basilisk behind him. It was the same Hogwarts snake but the creature was covered in flames. The fire was mixing with the basilisk scales, creating a terrifying sight.

"Apparate!" the Hat screamed. "Apparate now!"

"I don't know how-"

"You have done it before!"

"But not like this!" Harry reasoned.

The last memories of how to teleport fell into the boy's conscious and he could feel the hat take control of his mind for just a fraction of a second. "Destination, deliberation, dissociation."

And Harry Potter vanished.  
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Winterfell, Outside Winter's Hall**

"Tyrion, did you notice that?" Jon Snow asked. "That large thud? And the stream of snow, over that hill? It sounded like someone fell from the sky."

"Maybe they did, young Snow, maybe they did. Perhaps we should take a look. It might shed light on the situation at hand." The two walked to where they thought the person fell. "My, it looks like we found ourselves a little boy- a very battered one, at that."

"He looks badly hurt. I think I should go get Hodor, and put him in the barn. You should return to the feast, they will be wondering where you are."

"Funny, young bastard, very funny indeed. We both know they could care less where I am. I would much rather solve the mystery of this child who wields such an impressive looking sword. If I am not mistaken, those are rubies."

"He looks about Sansa's age," Jon observed. "Who would do this to a child?"

"Many would, young bastard, many. Come, we should bring him in before he dies," he paused, and then turned to face the wolf that was sitting nearby. "Mighty Direwolf, why not make yourself useful and help get this boy into the barn. You cannot expect a dwarf like myself to do this, can you?"

The Direwolf scowled and took the hood of the boy's robes in its mouth.

"Strange day we are having, first I meet a dwarf, now this." Jon shook his head. "Hopefully, there won't be any more surprises." Snow sighed. "But somehow, I doubt that."

* * *

**Winterfell Stable**

"Ah!" Harry screamed, when he opened his eyes.

"Hodooor!" the other voice screamed, with a shriek more terrified than the little boy's. The giant of a man, Hodor, ran away from the resting boy and hid under a mountain of hay, peeking out to look at his adversary. "Hodor! Hodor!"

"What is it, Hodor?" A tall youth with a long jaw and long brown hair ran into the stable. "Did the boy attack you?" The youth stopped, holding a sword out in front of him, poised to strike.

Harry held a hand over his chest, trying to stop his heart from bursting. "No, I didn't attack him. He just sort of scared me, that's all. His face was just inches from my own when I awoke and it spooked me, badly. It's my fault, entirely mine." The boy tried to stand up, but fell back to his knees. He could feel the wounds on his legs. He looked down to see some of them open. "Oh dear, this can't be good."

"What trouble you bring, little man. Surely you have an interesting way of showing thanks. Frightening the poor giant who has done nothing but watch you as you escaped fever. Certainly I wouldn't have been so observant, not like Mr. Hodor, there." This was said by a man roughly the size of a house-elf.

Harry had seen dwarves before, back in his world, and even met a few in his life, but he had never talked to one before.

"Oh, I see, you can't speak. What is it, boy? Does my form frighten you? Rest assured that I am no imp or demon, just a poor victim of circumstances," the dwarf said in a cheery voice.

Harry being an expert at reading hidden emotions, and being a victim of child abuse, could sense a bit of malice tied into those words. The orphan could sympathize with the man, he grew up short too. Only recently did he have a growth spurt- this past year, obtaining the adequate nutrition to look like the rest of the children.

"You don't scare me sir, I was just surprised at Mr. Hodor. My mind was elsewhere, I don't understand why you think I would be afraid of you. You aren't a monster or anything, and I hope I didn't offend you in any way with my hesitant reply."

If Aunt Petunia taught him one thing, it was to compliment guests. There would be a beating in store for him if he didn't, complements of Uncle Vernon's Smelting's stick.

The dwarf, Tyrion, looked startled by this, but hid it just as quickly. His face lost its happy features, and turned more neutral. "You have a silver tongue on your, boy. I would be wise to keep my ears open when listening to you. Either you are sincerely stupid and don't see that I am half a man, or you have deluded yourself into thinking that I am not a dwarf." Tyrion smiled. "Both will not endear you to me. I like compliments, but lies are another matter. Remember that."

"He's not lying, you foolish midget!"

The occupants of the room jumped at the thundering voice.

Jon Snow looked around, his word pulled out to strike. "Who's there?! Show yourself!"

Harry cursed. He forgot about the Sorting Hat. He looked around and saw it on the floor. No wonder it looked angry, the dwarf was stepping on it! "Sir, would you mind pulling your foot off my hat. It is very precious to me."

Tyrion looked down at his foot and noticed there was a moving piece of wool beneath. He immediately jumped off it, as the hat sprang up and examined at the occupants in the room.

"Much better, thank you Harry."

Snow didn't drop the sword. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he stood up like the warrior that he was. His mouth twisted into an almost-snarl, and the wolf from before appeared behind him. Its teeth were bared and it seemed ready to strike.

"What is that?" He turned to the boy, his eyes alight. "Better question, what are you?"

Someone screamed. Jon turned around to the gate of the stable, where the noise came from. He was surprised to see his sister, Arya, just standing there. She was supposed to be at the feast with the rest of nobles. She was still wearing the green dress that made her look ridiculous, considering how long her face was.

Her drab brown hair hung long on both sides of her face, and her shaking finger was pointing at the creature that looked like a giant pointy hat. "J-Jon! Is that a demon?" She was trembling and Jon could easily see that she was fighting the urge to run. Arya may have been a headstrong girl, but she wasn't stupid. If there was danger she would flee- that was the smart thing to do.

"That is what we are trying to discern, Miss Stark," Tyrion said dryly, wobbling closer to the talking hat. He circled it. "I wonder, whatever can you be? A most interesting thing you are, very much so."

"Not as interesting as your feet. I'd be interested to know where you lost them," the Hat replied, bringing itself to its full height. Surprisingly, it inflated to about the same height as the dwarf. Only it wasn't nearly as wide. "Maybe you should run along back to your friend before I devour the rest of those stumps you call fee-"

"That's enough," Harry yelled. "Hat, that was an accident. I would be mad too if someone stepped on me, but that is no reason to scare these people. They haven't done anything to us, and that man even saved me." Harry looked apologetic; he bowed his head to Jon Snow. "Forgive me, I should introduce myself, but I didn't think I would be forced to do so In this manner." He took a deep breath.

The other occupants looked at him expectantly; Arya took a few steps into the stable, still trembling. Harry hoped what he was about to say wouldn't scare off anyone else, not when he didn't know where he was. "My name is Harry Potter." The others didn't flinch at this or make any reaction, as to be expected. Now came the hard part. "I am a wizard."

"Wizard!" Arya gasped, Harry couldn't tell if she looked frightened, or excited. It was probably a bit of both. "You mean you can do magic? That kind of wizard?!" The rush of her voice suddenly made Harry realize how young she was. She couldn't have been more than eight, nine at best.

Harry hesitated, but the hat spoke up. "Yes, yes. What other kind of wizard is there, pesky Muggle?"

Jon snow interrupted "What is a Muggle?"

"Non-magical folks," Harry reflexively answered, "but that isn't important. Please forget that you saw us here. We were being pursued by someone, but we've lost them now. I think it is best that we leave, before this pursuer- another wizard- catches up to us." Harry stood up, but nearly fell down again.

Arya Stark sprinted out from behind her tall brother. Before Tyrion, the Sorting Hat, or Jon could notice anything, she had caught Harry before he fell to the floor. It was then that she noticed how much taller he was than her. "You're heavy!"

"He should be, he's twelve."

"Twelve?" Tyrion asked, curious. "He's twelve you say?"

The dwarf looked at Jon, who also looked puzzled. "I would have thought he was closer to Jon's age, considering how tall he is, but twelve?"

"How old is Jon?" the Hat asked.

"Almost fifteen," Jon said, automatically, perhaps a bit too defensive.

The Hat and Harry Potter looked at one another. They then took a closer look at their captors. It was clear that they wear wearing tunics and dresses, the kind one would find in any middle ages exhibition. If these were Muggles, why would that be? Muggles wore modern clothing, not something that came from the Renaissance.

The Hat had an idea. "Do you know where we are?" it asked.

"Oh my dear piece of wool, we be in Winterfell," Tyrion answered, before either Arya or Jon could. "Home of the Stark family, and the fortress closest to the Wall. Surely you must have heard of it?"

The Hat had one last question. "And where, pray tell, would this Winterfell be located?"

"On the continent of Westeros!" Arya said- she wanted to get into the conversation as well. "Isn't that right, Jon?'

Jon Snow shook his head, and sighed. This was absurd. He was talking to a hat- a hat of all things! "Yes, Arya Underfoot, you are somewhat correct, little sister."

"Don't call me that!"

"What," Jon teased, "little sister?"

Harry didn't listen to the babbling. He felt sick. There was no continent like this back in his world. He wasn't stupid enough to think he was in the present. No, this place looked far too much like pictures he had seen in history books. He looked at the stables, really looked at them, and noticed they weren't symmetrical. Much of it looked like it had been made by hand and not by machines.

They used hay instead of synthetic sheets he would be seeing in the future, and the people around him, now that he actually had time to notice, smelled somewhat awful, as if they had never used shampoo, soap, or conditioner in their life. This wasn't good at all. He looked at the Hat who was probably having similar thoughts.

"Someone is coming," Jon said, turning around to face the intruder.

Harry waited. He had a feeling that the next person to walk through that gate was not going to be a harmless little girl.

"Arya, I know you are in here. Come out right this instant, young lady! Your mother is worried stiff about you. How could you just leave in the middle of the feast like that? And in front of the Prince as well! Mark my words, young lady, there will be punishments to come, once I tell your father!"

Arya groaned. She looked at her brother with dread. "I have to go. I am still in trouble for what I did last week and if Mother hears about one more incident, she is going to make me stay in my room for the rest of the visit. Mother won't even let me stay to watch the sword fights! Isn't that cruel, Jon?"

Harry watched as Jon picked up his little sister and made her sit on his shoulder. It looked so right, the two of them just staying like that. Harry a small pang of jealousy, looking at the two siblings; he didn't have that kind of relationship with Dudley. Sure, the thought of being chummy with his ogre of a cousin was disgusting, but it was the principle of the matter.

"Foreward, my steed," Arya said, pointing to the angry matron. "Not so fast, I am going to fall off. Jon, stop tickling me, stop it! Ahahaha. Sorry about running away. I hope you didn't have to wander too far to look for me." Arya looked apologetic, Harry thought.

Harry turned his head to the matron, who was fuming. He could almost feel her angry mood from where he stood, away from the group. The lady was a skinny old thing, all knees and elbows. She didn't look very strong, but even Jon seemed to be afraid of her. She must have held some kind of authority to be able to frighten a powerful warrior like Jon.

"We shall discuss this matter once I see your father. I told you not to leave my sight. We had to send the Meister to find you, and he said you could be anywhere. You are needed at the table, and this is where you run off to!" The old woman pointed to join. "Running around with the bastard Snow when you could be playing with the Royal Princess! Do you know how far they had traveled just to see your family?! King's Landing isn't just a day's ride, Arya. It isn't a day's ride at all."

Arya had the grace to look ashamed, her head dropping down. She mumbled something that Harry thought vaguely sounded like sorry, but he couldn't be sure. Instead of pondering that, he tugged at Tyrion's hem and asked him something. "Is Arya a noble?"

The dwarf looked surprised, but smiled nonetheless. "If she is a peasant, then she's the richest peasant I have seen. That dress of hers can't be bought. You would have to be part of the Stark family to wear it. Rumor has it that it belonged to Lord Stark's sister, but I have my doubts."

Harry decided to back away for now. He watched as Jon tried to appease the old woman and send them off before the old woman noticed him. Hopefully, they would be able to leave without much of a fuss. Who knew what kind of trouble he could bring these people if he remained here any longer?

If the hat could just stay silent for a bit longer, things would work out. The old woman was out the door, so close, just a bit longer. Harry turned to see the Sorting Hat, praying that it wouldn't make a comment... and it didn't.

Arya took one last glance at the people in the stable and waved. She wore a smile on her face, but switched it to a fake, tear-stained one a moment later. Harry chuckled. The girl was much more clever than she looked. Harry turned to Jon who sighed and leaned against the wall, as if he had just fought a difficult battle.

After a moment Harry decided to ask about something that caught his attention. "Jon, if your last name is Snow, and that is Lord Stark's daughter, how come your name is not Jon Stark?"

Jon's eyes flashed with anger. Harry watched as he restrained himself, the boy had a suspicion that the taller man would have lunged at him right then and there had he not had good self-control. "That is because I am not a Stark. I am not born to Stark and his wife. I am not even considered family, not to them anyway, not while Lady Stark is around." His voice became colder. Harry was shocked at the change in the silent looking boy. "I am a bastard." He looked at Harry, his eyes challenging.

"Bah, the boy didn't care that that thing you call a man is a dwarf, why would he care that you be a bastard? Do you think that highly of yourself, bastard Jon Snow?" The Hat had a point. Harry flinched at the comment, and so did Jon.

Jon lost his anger, slowly. He relaxed and stood up, walking over to Harry and patting his head. "Sorry, I didn't mean to almost… do that. I get a bit angry when people call me a bastard. Out here in Winterfell, that is a very sensitive topic. People haven't been very kind to me, but they haven't been outright bad either. It's just- I don't have any real friends here. I am not a peasant, and I am not royalty. I am not sure where I belong."

The wolf took that moment to come up behind him and rub his snout on his leg. Harry watched as Jon smiled.

"Except for Ghost here."

Harry looked at the giant wolf- Ghost- objectively. It was enormous at the sides, far larger than it should be. If it continued to grow at this rate it might be the size of a horse by end of the next winter. "Is that some kind of werewolf?" Harry asked. "He doesn't look like a regular wolf. I have never known them to get so big, especially when they aren't fully developed."

Harry knew a thing or two about dogs from good old Aunt Marge. Between the time he spent scrubbing the beasts, making sure none of them took a bite out of his leg, and picking fleas, the old coot had told him all she knew about dogs, not that she expected the boy to ever listen. She didn't even care if he did, she just needed someone to talk to.

Jon knelt down to the level of the giant beast, and scratched underneath Ghost's nuzzle. "He's a Direwolf, they aren't the same. They can easily get to the size of a pony. Legend has that it some could grow to be the size of an ox. I have seen a few that are as big as horses, but that is rare. I think Ghost here has the potential to get to the size of a horse, don't you agree, wolf?"

The beast barked once, and licked its master's hand. Jon laughed and hugged the creature. Harry was amazed at their relationship. No, that wasn't right; he was amazed at Jon's attachment to the beast, he hugged it as if it were another person, another human being. Either Jon was a lonely fellow, as he said he was, or he had a thing for animals. Both ideas were a bit disturbing.

"How touching," Tyrion said dryly. The dwarf clapped his hands a few times, getting the attention of the fellows around the stable back to him. He coughed and cleared his throat. "As much as I would love to hear about your pet dog. I think you should consider finding the wizard a place to sleep. Surely you will need to explain to Lord Stark how you found him, and that will not be easy, I am afraid. Not with the rest of my family staying here for the next day or so."

"I don't need your help, Tyrion. I just need to make sure the Lannisters don't know about this. As long as you keep your mouth silent about this situation, then nothing will happen. The wizard can sleep in the stable with Hodor while we make suitable arrangements."

"I am afraid I cannot do that, boy. I am obligated to tell my family what I see. You don't know my family like I do. They aren't like the Starks. My family is much more cunning, they will find a way to extract the information they want from me. My sister and brother will surely want to know what I was doing with you. Our two families aren't exactly on good terms." Tyrion appeared tired, he rubbed his eyes. "Besides, I have never met a wizard before. It isn't often I someone as unique as myself. Does my form really not scare you?"

Harry could tell the man was trying to be optimistic. It didn't show in either his voice or facial features, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. Tyrion must have been hurt many times before. Harry could just imagine how cruel his life must be if he was a dwarf living in the middle ages. Even back in his time, dwarves were treated with scorn and mockery.

"Mr. Lannister, I am not afraid of you in the least. I have a friend who is just as small as you, and far uglier. Not that I'm saying you are ugly or anything, I think you look all right. I have seen strange things in my life, believe me, and a dwarf is one of the most normal things one can run into back in my home."

"Really now?" Tyrion asked, his eyes lighting up a bit. "Tell me more about this place you come from. It sounds like you come from faraway lands, boy. Might you continue your tale? I am sure we can learn something from it."

Harry smiled. "I come from a continent called called Europe. Within this place is a city called London. I think I was born there, but honestly, I am not sure where I was born." Harry paused. "I go to school in Scotland, at a place is called Hogwarts. It's a school for wizards and witches to learn magic."

"That is impressive," Jon commented, he sat down on a stool. He looked interested. "So why aren't you there, and how did you come here?"

Harry's eyes lowered. "That is why we should leave. A spirit kidnapped my best friend's sister, and I tried to rescue her. She was being guarded by a giant snake, about the size of ten horses."

Jon and Tyrion looked confused. Jon was the first to speak. "Snakes do not get that big, do they?" He paused. "Why would a learning institution for children keep a giant snake? It sounds dangerous to me."

"That isn't half as dangerous as the things they kept in the school my first year," Harry sighed. "Anyway, I was forced out of the castle through a magical tunnel, and the next thing I know, the Sorting Hat back there gave me some memories on how to teleport temporarily and I landed here." Harry shuffled his feet, his gaze on the floor. "I am sorry about this, I should have told you all this form the start."

Jon patted Harry's shoulder and smiled. "Fear not, you do not have to worry about enemies here. There hasn't been a sighting of any magical beasts in over a hundred years. The last dragons died off years ago."

Tyrion didn't look so certain. "Maybe, Mr. Snow, maybe."

"Come, let me show you around Winterfell!"

* * *

**Winterfell, Outer Edges**

"Well, that was certainly a waste of time!" the Hat spat out. It was covered in snow; some of it had started melting. The Sorting Hat must have had some kind of charm that allowed it to stay a certain temperature in colder climates. That would explain why it had survived through the ages, considering how cold it could get in the Headmaster's room when no one was around to heat up the fire place. "All we have gathered is that we are somehow inside an impenetrable castle."

"At least Jon Snow is nice. We learned that," Harry pointed out. "He doesn't seem to want anything from us. Even if he knows I am some kind of wizard."

"That's because you haven't shown him what you are capable of. Believe me, the moment you tell him you can turn water into wine, or feces into food, the boy and his ilk will use you until you're dry."

"Then why did you yell it out like that in the stable?!" Harry yelled. "I could have just pretended to be a normal boy. That would have kept suspicion away from us, and I could have found a way to sneak out of this castle. You're already making me Apparate out here. I still don't understand why you can't just draw out those memories like you did the last time."

"Idiot boy! Have you never heard of brain damage? What has that Muggle school of yours been teaching you? I dove through your mind for anything useful and I found that memory where your pig of cousin chased you through the school, and you were so afraid that you Apparated out of fear! You barely remember it because you've repressed it. If I continue to bring them out, I'll be pulling out other emotions as well, emotions that you have buried in your subconscious."

"I see," Harry said glumly. "I just didn't want to splinch anymore. We've been doing this all day, and I am only making some progress. I am trying to put together the technique from those memories you gave me earlier, but I am only getting as far as the other end of the field. It doesn't seem very useful."

"Practice! Practice! Practice! It takes months to master this, Harry Potter. Better wizards than you have failed, and worse have as well. Not many get this art right, and many don't employ it. They much prefer other types of transportation. However, without a wand, this is the best form of travel I can think of. This, or flight."

"Flight?" Harry asked.

"Yes, you heard me correctly. The ability to levitate. Concentrate enough and you can make things float, make them go against gravity. It is not easy act of magic. It is most difficult to do on oneself since we can't see ourselves when we float."

"I-I wouldn't mind learning that," Harry said. The idea of flying sounded impressive! "What do I have to do?"

The Hat didn't say anything for a moment, then it scowled. "I am going to regret doing this later. We'll have to take this in steps. First you focus on an object. See that rock? Look at it, focus on that rock." Harry did just that. "Now put as much raw magic as you can into the rock, I don't care how you do it. Maybe use your anger, use your rage, think of that rock as someone you hate. Anything to get magic into that rock!"

Harry did just that. He pictured his Aunt Marge as that rock. To his astonishment the rock started to float. "That's it, I am doing it! Hat, I-"

Then the rock inflated like a balloon. "Hat, is that supposed to do that-"

And then it blew up, sending shards and dust around the field. Harry ducked as a piece of stone shrapnel almost struck him. The Sorting Hat continued to curse as dust collected on it. It had a combination of snow and dark filth all over itself. "That's it! Don't ever try that spell again!"

Harry looked sheepish. "Sorry."

The two spent the rest of the day practicing Apparation. After the twentieth splinch, the Sorting Hat told Harry to take a break. An arm could only be attached to a body a couple of times a day before a wand was needed to mend it back together, and sadly, they didn't have one. Harry wished he did; he could do so much if could get it back.

He looked around the castle as he went back to the stables. He was surprised that no one paid attention to him. The visit from the Lannisters must have been important. He walked through the gates of the stable, past the sleeping forming of the giant Hodor, to his own pile of hay. "Good night, Hat."

"It's never a good night when I am away from Hogwarts," the Hat sighed. "I feel so vulnerable out here. Ironic, that I can summon the Sword of Gryffindor at will, and yet I have no arms with which to use it."

Harry reflected on that. "Ironic, that I am wizard, and yet I have no wand to use any of my magic."

The Hat smiled. "Let's not worry about that now. You leave that wand business to me. I'll think of something."

Harry slept well that night, until Hodor went berserk.

"Hat, should we do something?" Harry yelled, hiding behind more hay as Hodor bashed his head against the stable walls. Harry learned how strong the man truly was. Hodor was almost twice the size of Jon Snow and five times as heavy. He was muscle incarnate with a lot of power in his hands and feet. Had the man a brain, he would be a force to be reckoned with. "I am not even sure he's awake."

"He's having a seizure, Potter. It happens. Look at the boy's head- yes, you heard me. He may not look it, but Hodor isn't that much older than your precious Jon Snow. He just suffers from some kind of cerebral disorder, probably has CSF, or spinal fluid in his brain. I am not going to get technical about this, but the boy is having some kind of stroke."

"So what do we do?" Harry asked, worried. "If it gets bad, won't he die? People die when they get strokes, don't they? We can't just leave him to suffer like that. Hat, he watched me as I slept. He's been a great person so far, and hasn't harmed us at all. Can't we do something for him?"

The Sorting Hat thought about this, or so Harry hoped. "Hat?"

"I am thinking! I am thinking! Don't rush me, Harry Potter, unless you want to be the one to use that puny brain of yours. Honestly, I don't know if we can help him without wand. There are only a few arts that could change the mind, and most of them involve- of course! Legilimency!"

Harry's eyebrows rose. "What is that?"

"Mind Arts, it is a branch of it. Perhaps one of the most powerful branches. Believe me when I say it is a unique and rare gift. You will do well to learn it, now that we are here in Westeros. I don't trust the people here, they are far too shifty for their own good. Especially that dwarf."

"You shouldn't just judge people based on their looks," Harry commented. "He didn't seem like a bad man. He looks freaky, I am sorry to say, but I think he meant well. He could have run off to the Lannisters, but instead he is giving Jon Snow time to tell his father about me. I am not saying we should trust him completely, but maybe we can give him a chance?"

The Hat scowled. "As you wish- it's your funeral. I am not even alive per se, but I burn just as well as a witch."

Harry flinched. He forgot about that part.

"So you'll start teaching me these Mind Arts? You seem to be an expert at it." Harry heard the Hat laugh in the darkness. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, Harry, nothing at all. It's just that no one has ever thought to ask me to teach Mind Arts. Oh, the irony. Here I am, a magical item that is a pure incarnation of the Mind Arts, and not a single person has ever asked me to teach them! Me, a Hat who can look through the surface memories of anyone whose head I touch with ease! Me, who has lived over a thousand years, obtained knowledge long forgotten, and yet you, Harry Potter, are the first person to ask me to teach my Mind Arts!"

Harry could see this was a soft spot for the Hat. To have all that knowledge and no one to share it with. Harry wondered what kind of classes the Hat could teach with all those ideas and thoughts it had collected over the years. It seemed like such a shame. Perhaps Dumbledore was not the smartest person in the castle, after all?

"We'll start tomorrow with Legilimency. It seems like Parseltongue isn't the only thing that Dark Lord cursed you with the night he killed your parents."

**  


* * *

Winterfell, Castle**

"We'll be meeting Lord Stark later tonight. If you can stay out of trouble for another few hours, everything should go according as plan. I dazzle him with my ability to talk, and you blow up some rocks."

"I didn't mean to blow up the rocks, Hat. How many times do I have to keep apologizing?! If it makes you feel any better, at least I can use it as some kind of weapon."

"And how would such a weapon be used?" the Sorting Hat asked, scathingly. "It seems rather pointless to me. Most of the men here use some kind of sword fighting or bow and arrows. You'll have a spear in your gut before long with that kind of thinking. Now Apparation! There's a list of possibilities-"

"Sh, I think I hear Arya." Harry walked down the hall to where he heard the screaming girl. It seemed like she was getting into another argument with her matron. "There are others in there, as well. Do you think she might need some assistance?"

"Doubt that, Mr. Potter," the Hat commented. "She's more likely being scolded for something she did. Mark my words, that girl is a trouble maker. Stay away from her."

"You think everyone is trouble. I am not saying that is a bad thing, but maybe we can trust her a little. She's just a little girl, what harm could she possibly do? All right, I'll admit Ginny was little too, and we both know how that turned out, but there doesn't seem to be any magic in this castle."

"Oh, there is magic here, Mr. Potter. Otherwise you wouldn't be able to use any of yours. It's simply that no one seems to tap into any of the ambient energy around these parts. It's singing with power, everywhere I look. You can't see magic like I can, so you have no idea of the secrets this place holds."

Harry shrugged. "I spent most of my life under my uncle's staircase, not exactly the best learning environment. You might want to give this speech to someone like Hermione." Harry took another few steps towards the room Arya was screaming in.

"He's our brother!" Arya shouted.

"Half-brother," another, softer voice, replied. "Jon doesn't know any better. He's a bastard. You'd do well to remember that. What would he know about Princes? Jon says these things about the Prince because he is jealous. You should know that, Arya. It isn't hard to figure out."

"Sounds like one of those sibling arguments," Harry commented, "reminds me of those rows Ron would get with his brothers during Christmas." Harry dusted off his front robes. "I am just surprised I can get this close to the two without anyone dragging me off to the dungeon."

"Most of the guards are in the sword-dueling field. Apparently, there is some kind of small tournament between the Stark and Lannister household. I'd tell you more, but I am assuming that bastard Snow can give you a better explanation."

"He's still got the Sword of Gryffindor," Harry mused. "Did you tell him that you can summon that thing at will, so there isn't any point hiding it from me?"

The Hat smiled. "He'll find that out in due time, Harry Potter."

Suddenly the door opened, and Arya burst out, fuming. She didn't even glance at Harry, or the large Hat sitting on top of his head. The small noble turned around one last time to the occupants of the other room, her eyes stinging with tears.

"Excuse me, Princess. I fear that if I remain here any longer, I might have the urge to slap someone. By your leave I'll be taking my exit." She curtsied to the smaller girl, who Harry noticed was just as adorable as Arya. The children of this world were remarkably smaller than the ones in his, though it was probably to be expected given the lack of nutrition and calcium in their diet.

Arya almost slammed into Harry, who barely managed to get out of the way of the angry girl. He could see that her hands were clenched and her chest was heaving. That other girl must have said something to upset her, perhaps something about her bastard half brother.

"Arya, get back this instant and apologize to your sister!" Harry hid behind a pillar as the old woman came out, her hands raised to the heavens. The orphan tried not to laugh at the sight. It wasn't the old woman's fault she looked so hysterical. "Honestly, I wish she was more like you, Sansa. I pity you- to have such a sibling as that! Rob, Bram, and little Rickin… they are fine young men indeed but that Snow and Arya, I just don't know what to do with those two."

Harry watched as another girl came out of the room. This must have been Sansa. She didn't resemble Arya at all. Where Arya had long arms and legs, this girl was much smaller. Where Arya had plain brown hair, this girl's auburn curls sparkled. She had high cheekbones and a heart shaped face- not that Harry cared about such things, but he knew others did. She seemed to be his age by all appearances, only much smaller, which, again, wasn't that surprising.

She wore an elegant frilly dress, and wore it well for such a small girl. Her wide blue eyes saw him, as he hid behind a pillar. Harry had a feeling she was going to question what he was doing there, and she proved him right the next moment. "Who are you? Are you a new servant?"

The matron came out from behind the girl, observing Harry Potter with a critical eye. "I know him. He be the new stable hand. I saw him lying on the job yesterday. Seems to be in better condition today than he was yesterday. Don't pay attention to riff-raff such as this, Sansa. You'd best keep away from his lot. If he associates with the likes of Hodor and Snow, it tells much of his character."

Sansa scrunched her nose. "He smells dreadful. At least Hodor takes baths. He doesn't look like he's had one in days. Doesn't father have a policy to keep clean at all times, especially when we have guests over?"

The Septa took a look at Harry's robes, and his filth-covered face. "Yes, I believe your father does. Boy, go out to the back and hose yourself down. Then make your way to the court, where they be fighting. The swords could use a good polishing."

Normally, Harry would have felt insulted, any normal child would, but Harry Potter was far from normal. Years of being talked down to by Uncle Vernon had colored him grey. He'd been commanded to do worse, what harm could it do to follow the old woman? She didn't seem evil. "Sure, Ma'am." Harry bowed respectfully. "Have a wonderful afternoon, and don't worry about Arya, if I find her I'll tell her to come this way."

The old lady looked surprised at this, she didn't smile, but she didn't scowl either. "Thank you, I would appreciate that."

Sansa scowled. "If you see that sister of mine, tell her that I am very displeased. Honestly, that Snow is a bad influence on her. I don't know why father even allows him to stay this close to us." She turned around, and walked back into the room.

Moments after Harry left, the Hat started formulating a plan. "I have an idea. It might get you recruited in this castle if you follow it. It seems like these people stick to some kind of insane moral code. Go to the courtyard as she instructed. I'll be summoning the Sword now."

"Why?" Harry asked, a bit scared. "What will I need a sword for?"

The Hat didn't answer, but it chuckled. "All in due time, Harry Potter, all in due time."

* * *

**Winterfell, Sword Court**

"I am surprised you aren't there fighting in this tournament. You look like you can take them." Harry moved himself next to Jon Snow, who sat on the ground, cross legged, watching the spectacle. "You have your sword all polished, and you just sit there watching. Any particular reason why that is? Do you have to pay money for this tournament?"

Jon Snow grimaced. "No, you do not. This isn't so much a tournament as it is a test of skill. The Lannister and Stark Houses are having a friendly duel to test their strength. Not so much Lannister, I suppose that is wrong. If you see there, you'll notice a fat boy covered in armor, and a thin boy fighting. The thin one is my little brother, he's younger than Arya. His opponent, that fat one is the King's youngest son. The winner of this match will earn a great deal of respect, while the other House will lose face. Both are aware of this."

"Then you should be down there, Jon," Harry said.

"No, I really should not," Jon Snow said tersely. "It might cause a scandal. Do you see that tall boy up ahead, yes, the one that looks like a girl? The one with the ridiculous high collar, he's the King's oldest son. He's almost thirteen years old, but he's already taller than Rob, my brother, and myself. That's the one they don't want me to get near. They wouldn't want their precious Prince to be hurt by the vile bastard." There was ice in that final word. Harry tried not to shiver and failed.

Jon didn't stop his rant. "Out here in Winterfell everyone with the last name Snow is a bastard. Once you're branded a bastard, you will always be a bastard. It matters that my father is Lord Stark, but that doesn't mean I am a member of his family. If I were to go down there and defeat the King's son, Prince Joffrey, it would be 'that bastard' who did it, not Jon Stark."

"Does it mean that much to you?" Harry asked. "I mean, your father clearly doesn't hate you if he is willing to let you be near his children. I don't think he's ashamed of you either. I am not sure anyone is. Arya seems to like you, at the very least."

Jon smiled. "Arya is special. There isn't a better sister a bastard could hope for."

"What about Rob Stark? Is he cruel to you?" Harry asked.

"No, he isn't, but he's not my brother. He's always treated me as more of a friend. Do you see that person beside him, that tall one? That's his brother, Theon Greyjoy. Me, Jon Snow, will always be Jon Snow. I am more than a playmate, but not that much more."

"And you don't think that's fair, do you?" Harry said.

The wizard could recall the times he had thought that as well. Growing up with Dudley wasn't easy. His cousin got everything, while he, Harry Potter, got nothing. He was always the shame of the family, the disgrace. Living in the closet underneath the stairs, always worried about being beaten by his uncle, never having any friends, never truly having a phone, he always felt like he never belonged.

He could understand Jon, but not completely. There were a lot of cultural differences between the two. Also, Jon Snow had the luxury of seeing his dad. Harry had seen Lord Stark walk around the castle and he didn't seem like a bad person. Why Jon was losing his temper now puzzled Harry. This may have had more to do with puberty and less to do with how Jon was treated, but Harry thought that he could be wrong.

He decided to cheer Jon up. "How about we go and encourage your brother, Rob? From your tone, you don't seem to like the Prince. I am sure Rob will give that lout a good thrashing if he sees you. If anything, you might distract that girly-boy." Harry got up and tried to pull Jon.

Jon Snow may have only been a head or so taller than Harry Potter, but he was much heavier. It wasn't easy getting him up, but Harry managed- he was stronger than he looked. He would have to be, after all those years of weeding.

"Very well, but if I get into trouble I am going to say I was getting you so that you could clean the stables. I haven't talked with father yet; he doesn't even know you are here in this castle. I am not sure anyone does, unless Tyrion has told his family. I doubt he has, but you never know with imps."

The two walked side by side. Harry realized he had forgotten to clean himself, but he shrugged and decided that wasn't important. As he got closer to the group of knights and swordsmen, he could see that there would be a fight breaking out between Rob and Joffrey before the battle even started.

"Give me a sharp blade, now," Rob commanded. Harry was surprised to see how little he resembled Jon Snow. Rob Stark was half a head shorter and far less muscular. He must have gotten his looks from his mother's side. "I'll teach this arrogant wealth why he shouldn't disrespect the Starks. If he wants to fight with non-blunted weapons, then I am all for it. It will only take a moment, not even a second. Just give him the blade, that's all. If need be, give me a blunted weapon and hand him the sharp one."

Prince Joffrey scoffed. "Please, do you really think I would fight you when you are that defenseless? You Starks need all the help you can manage. It would be unkind of me to sink to your level. I am an honorable man, don't presume I play the same way you do. I wouldn't want to kill my host, not when your women have served me so graciously. That would make me a bad guest, especially if I leave your head at the gates. On my way out, that is."

Jon Snow was moving before Harry could make a grab for the taller teenager. "That arrogant little shit."

Harry ran behind him, snow flying into the air as he sprinted. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. Despite saying that he didn't care for Rob, Harry suspected Jon cared deeply. Rob may not have thought of Jon as a brother, but Jon sure did. It was almost sad- no, it was sad!

"Jon! Don't!" Harry Potter yelled, earning the attention of the crowd. "It's not worth it. He's just a child!"

The air suddenly turned cold. The Prince, a blond-haired boy even taller than Jon Snow turned to face Harry Potter. If possible, he turned colder than ice. The King's son spoke in barely a whisper. "What did you call me?"

Harry was going to apologize, when Jon Snow beat him to it. "Forgive him, your grace. He's a bit dumb in the head. He shares a stable with Hodor, you must realize what Hodor is, of course. The boy is like him, he doesn't know much about people. We are training him to talk and he's doing well. He didn't mean what he said. Please, forgive him."

Harry could see how much it pained Jon to say those words. Snow was still angry about the comment the Prince had made about Rob. If things got out of control, how would Jon Snow make it out alive? He didn't have any political power. Sure, he was the son of the Winterfell Lord, but that was nothing compared to the son of the Westeros King!

The Prince sneered; it seemed as if he had taken Jon's bait. How that boy couldn't see the venom in Snow's eyes, Harry didn't know. Jon's body language was screaming at the Lannisters. It told a very obvious story of barely held together contempt and hatred, seeping out of him like fire, burning and blazing. Jon must have really, really despised the Prince.

"Oh, it is you. What do you they call you again? Ah, yes, now I remember: Jon Snow. Lord Stark's bastard. How noble you are, to defend the likes of Hodor. How is Hodor, by the way? Still devouring barn animal droppings and running away from children?" Joffrey laughed.

His cousins, all tall and graceful like himself, did the same. Jon grasped Harry's shoulder. If Jon didn't stop squeezing then Harry was certain his bones would pop.

"Hodor is all right, my Lord. He's doing better than he was the last time your father visited. I will let him know that you send him your regards," Jon Snow said. The gasps from some of the men told Harry that Jon had obviously said the wrong thing. The orphaned wizard stared at Snow's pale face, watching for any signs of shock. There weren't any. Jon Snow had done that on purpose.

"Watch your mouth, bastard. Do not take me for a fool. I know what you said. I know what that means. You may be older than me, but that doesn't make you smarter. Don't think for a second that you are at my level, bastard. A bastard will always be a bastard, and so forth. You dare talk to me like that? Me, who will one day be king?"

The Prince took one long step. He didn't tower over Jon, but he was slightly taller, and it gave him just enough of an advantage to look down on the muscular teen. Harry wondered how many arrows would be in his gut if he took this chance to kick the Prince in the balls. He stared up at the boy, and decided he might not have a pair. So it might be a lost cause in the first place.

"Forgive me, my Prince. Perhaps you have misheard me. I know that I am not that much older than you, but perhaps I am just old enough that my words are a bit hard for someone like you to grasp. Maybe I'll need to age a bit more, learn to talk more simply, such that I can communicate with my younger peers. I would not want for my words to be misinterpreted by my young Prince Joffrey."

Behind Jon Snow, Rob Stark laughed out loud. It must have been an inside joke that Harry Potter missed. Jon clearly was in trouble, but he didn't seem to care. Now that Harry thought about it, perhaps Jon wasn't in any danger. They were in Winterfell, Lord Stark's stronghold. The Prince and his comrades would have to be crazy if they thought they could get out of here unharmed for attacking the child of Stark, even if he was a Snow.

The Prince looked ready to draw his blade. He almost did, and Harry could tell Jon was ready for it. Jon seemed incredibly reckless at that moment, and judging by how the other members of the Stark army where cheering him on, it seemed like a clash would start any minute.

Then the Prince's eyes caught sight of Harry Potter, and he grinned. "You know Stark. We never finished that fight, did we? How about you let me warm up a bit before we commence?" Someone grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him from behind Jon. The tall Snow tried to grasp Harry's shoulder but missed.

Harry looked up at the fiend who had gotten him; it was a tall, muscular ogre of a man. He smiled at him. The Prince's eyes lit up with malice. "Give this boy a sword. I want to test how sharp these blades are. I want to see if they cut thought meat." He looked Harry in the eye, and grinned. "Or slice through bone."

* * *

**Winterfell, Weapons Quarter**

"You don't seem to be too worried about this," Harry said dryly. "I am about to fight a Prince, a trained, noble Prince, with no practical experience whatsoever. You can at least look a bit concerned about my situation! This may even be the last time I talk to you." Harry growled the last part. "No wonder Snow hates that little ponce. If I had my wand, oh, the things I could do!"

The Hat had enough of this. "Potter, get this through your head: you. Will. Destroy. Him. You are a Wizard. He is a Muggle. You have magic. He does not. You can make things float and blow up. He can swing a god-awful piece of scrapmetal, and swing it half like a drunkard I might add. If worst comes to worst, you can simply Apparate."

"Oh, right. Why didn't I think of that before?" He paused making a thinking face. "Hey, I know. It's because they'll burn me when they finally catch me! Curse you, Hat, I can't keep teleporting forever! I'll eventually get tired, and when I do, I am dead. Why did I have to listen to you and come here? I should have just spent the day cleaning the stables with Hodor."

"You'd much rather spend your time with that retarded buffoon? Potter, after all those years spent with Dudley, this is your answer. I am really, really disappointed in you."

"To be fair, Hodor is still smarter than Dudley."

"Woman, get over here this instant. We've got a sword for you to use. The Prince will not wait forever, don't make him go to you, you sniveling little coward. By the gods, what a farce this day has turned out to be," the weapons master said. "The longer you delay, the angrier our noble Prince will be. It's in your best interest to get up and go!"

Harry Potter sighed in resignation and picked up the Hat. No one was paying attention to him, so nobody saw their conversation. "I'm guessing you have a plan?

"Have I ever let you down?"

"Let's not answer that question, please, for my sanity."

* * *

**Winterfell, Sparring Ground**

"It's a big crowd, don't you think?" the Hat commented. "I would've thought it would be smaller."

"I am guessing the Prince wants me to be an example for Jon Snow. He knows that he can't defeat him, so he is using me to get to him. Jon knows I am a wizard, so he is expecting me to use magic to defeat Joffrey. See, he's smiling, and is that Arya next to him?"

Harry looked closely at the front seats. Surely, it was Arya. The girl looked excited, her bad mood from earlier was gone. Beside her sat Hodor, who- surprisingly- was clapping his hands, and looking around curiously. Hodor must not have been dangerous if they left him near children. What did Joffrey say about Hodor running from children? Harry would have to file away that thought for another day.

"Look sharp, Mr. Potter. He's waiting for you. He thinks he has this match in the bag, but we're going to show him just how wrong he is. We're going to humiliate him completely, so thoroughly that the only way to restore his honor would be to kill you."

"Don't you think that is a little too extreme?" Harry asked sheepishly. Truth be told, Harry didn't like the idea of a mad Prince coming after him. "Maybe just scaring him is enough. Can we, er, do that instead?"

"You take away my fun, Mr. Potter. Scaring children is my life-long ambition, why do this to a poor hat? Why?"

Harry decided it would be in his best interest not tp reply to that question. He walked towards the Prince. They stood facing each other. The Prince's eyes still held that cruel glint. From this angle, Harry could vaguely see his resemblance to Draco Malfoy. If Harry had hated him before, then now he hated him even more. At least Malfoy was just bad, not evil.

"Someone give this simpleton a blade. I want a bit more of a fight before I chop his head. I like my prey to have bit of life, they scream when they do. Oh yes, they do." He looked at Harry, really looked at him for the first time. "Do you have a name, fool?"

Harry shrugged. "Harry Potter." It was at that moment that the Hat whispered his plan into Harry's mind. Harry smiled. The Prince thought the smile meant something else.

"Is that name supposed to mean something?"

"It should. It's a wizard's name." Harry backed away from the boy cautiously, keeping his sights on the Prince, who looked frightened. Harry pulled his hat off his head, unhurriedly, so that everyone in the crowd could see. Slowly but surely, he pulled out the Sword of Gryffindor, watching the faces of the crowd.

Some gasped in awe, some with fright, but most too stunned to talk. Harry paced side to side, testing out the balance and made a few fake swings, just to let the rubies on the sword shine. He looked up at the Prince, who was starting to have second thoughts about the battle, judging by his expression. "Would you like some time to warm up, your Highness?"

The Prince didn't speak. He couldn't: his voice was caught in his throat. Harry heard a gasp from the crowd, a familiar one. He turned to see that girl Sansa from earlier, she looked worried; her eyes were on the Prince. When Harry saw her, really saw her, and she stared back, he couldn't help but feel like a villain.

When she looked at him, he saw nothing, absolutely nothing but loathing.

Harry shivered.

"Hat, I hope you know what you are doing."

"No, Potter. I hope you don't screw up. One mistake- just one- and it will be off with your head. Don't be so quick to get it chopped off. After all, I am sitting on it, and as strange as it might sound I rather fancy my spot."

Harry grunted. "Hold on, dear Prince. Before the match begins, let me sharpen my sword on this." Harry walked to a large boulder. It was a weight designed for pure decoration. Harry couldn't understand the logic of it; it didn't seem to serve any purpose other than just to show that it was large, and whoever brought it here was even larger.

Harry could tell the crowd had their eyes on his back, as he drew his sword over his head. They wanted to know what trick he would pull next. The last Potter felt like he was on stage, and he was the entertainer. He didn't want to disappoint. Most of the people here, especially Arya, were watching his ruby-crested sword with consternation.

Harry put all his intent and focus into the boulder. He put as much malice and hatred, as many dark thoughts as he could muster. Memories of the beatings Uncle Vernon gave him, though they weren't severe, still hurt. The students mocking, both from Hogwarts, and his original school. All those years cooped up in that cupboard, all those wasted years with no friends, no family… they hurt, these memories hurt a lot.

It concentrated, it combined, and it was about to explode. When Harry let out all of these emotions he knew that the boulder wouldn't stand a chance.

"STRIIIIIKE!"

No one seemed to notice that the boulder blew up before the sword made impact, and they didn't seem to care. All they wondered was how a boy no older than the Prince could have turned the rock into ash. There was dust everywhere, even falling from the sky like dark sparkles. It covered Harry and the Prince.

Harry decided to take his time as he turned around, twirling the blade in his hand. He needed to show the Prince fear, he needed to make him back away. This was the moment of truth, this was the moment he would find out if the Hat's plan worked.

"Forgive me, I was out of shape. That strike of mine still needs some work, but I hope I can be somewhat of a challenge to you. I wouldn't dare face you without a sword- a sharp one, at that. My head would be put on a pike otherwise, isn't that right? My Prince," he hastily appended.

Harry didn't put an ounce of hatred in those words. Every sound seemed sincere, and in a way it was. Harry Potter wasn't a killer. He hoped he would never have to be one. He continued to walk towards the Prince, looking around to see if anyone was planning on putting an arrow through his chest. No one was. He was safe, for now.

Before Harry could take another step, the large man who had grabbed him earlier stepped over, and blocked Harry's path. "I am the Hound. I will be your opponent. The Prince must save his energy to do battle with young Master Rob. Show me what you can do, demon."

"Let them fight!" Arya yelled. Jon tapped her in the back of the head. "Ouch, what was that for?"

Before the crowd could put their two cents in, the tallest man in the front stand stood up. Harry sighed in relief. He knew what was going to happen. The Hat had told him this.

"That is enough. We have seen what the boy can do. We have seen that he claims himself to be a Wizard. As it stands, I withhold this match until it can be confirmed that the boy speaks the truth."

Shouts of protest met this declaration.

"Silence! This is Winterfell! This is my domain, and if anyone seeks to challenge Lord Stark, let them come out now, otherwise I will not tolerate those who oppose my rule. Harry Potter is to leave the stands this instant. Guards, arrest him."

"Hat did you predict this too."

"Oh dear, not the arresting part."  
**

* * *

  
Winterfell, Dungeons**

"That was amazing! Did you see the look on Joffrey's face?! He was about ready to flee by the time Harry took his time. Had the Hound not blocked him, I am certain the little shit would have run. How did you do that? Was that magic? Tell me! Tell me! Oh, can you do it again? Pleaseee?"

Harry groaned for the third time since they put him in the cell. So far, his only visitors had been Jon and Arya. Jon would always bring his little sister, while Arya questioned him about his powers. For some reason, the Hat was staying unusually quiet. It was probably trying to make a plan of escape. One that might not involve just Apparating out of here at the risk of splinching.

The plan hadn't gone quite as predicted. In fact, it had the opposite effect. During the Middle Ages, witches would be burned, but wizards would be respected! Wizards had power, they had knowledge, and a King could easily use the two to conquer their neighbors. At the time, wizards were one of the few magical beings who would help their human counterparts without extracting strange requirements such as vast amounts of gold or the occasional virgin sacrifice.

What happened today had led Harry into thinking that perhaps the Hat was going about it all wrong. Westeros may not have been an alternate past, but maybe, just maybe, an alternate future. In this future, technology did not progress, but instead, constant wars had halted any form of stable economic growth and academic progress. If that was the case, the mentality of these people would be vastly different from that of his world, even during the Middle Ages. Could these men be even more savage?

"Arya, perhaps you should let Mr. Potter rest. He's going to be dealing with Father this evening. Perhaps he will answer your questions tomorrow, when there aren't so many guards watching." Jon ruffled her hair, and made her sit on his shoulders. Arya pouted, but seemed to understand her older brother. Behind them, Ghost and another she-wolf watched Harry. "But I am also curious as to what you did back there, and why? I thought you would be a bit more subtle than that. I understand you wanted to humiliate the Prince, but maybe you could have done it in a way that does not require you imprisoned."

"Blame the Hat, I just follow its instructions."

"Is that wise?" Arya asked.

"It's worked so far," Harry shrugged, "but then, most of the advice I've gotten in my life revolves around staying out of trouble from my aunt and uncle, despite the fact that their son was constantly picking fights with children half his age. I have a difficult time deciding which advice to follow, and which I would be better off ignoring. That's not to say the Hat is always giving bad advice, but I have to admit it hasn't always kept a level head."

"Why isn't it saying anything now?" Arya asked. It seemed like she wouldn't stop her questions. Harry could probably guess. The girl was two years younger than himself, and from what Harry could recall from his days back then, he was very much interested in the unknown, which was odd, given how he would be in trouble had his caretakers discovered that. "Has he run out of magic?" She looked almost sad.

Harry got off the dungeon floor, a very dusty one at that, and wiped off his robes. He stared up at her. She wasn't that far up since Jon had to double down a bit due to her weight. "No. I don't think so. It's possible, but I am sure he's just tired. Magical items need rest too." It was a lie of course, Harry could tell Jon wasn't buying it, but the girl might.

"Can the Hat do anything else?" she asked, still not giving up her questioning. The girl got off her brother and crawled to the ground. Harry mused that she didn't seem to care how filthy the bottom of her dress became as she approached him. She was a strange noble, more wild than fae-like. Her brown hair looked messy, but she didn't seem to want to fix it. Then again, Harry wasn't exactly the poster boy of good hair.

"Aside from trading minor insults? Maybe. Honestly I am not sure about all the things the Hat can do. We've only met up again recently and he's revealed a few strange powers that I wasn't even sure he had, but they did not really surprise me. Now that I think about it, it probably shouldn't have. I've seen stranger things in my life: giant snakes, a man with two faces, a three-headed dog… a talking hat should not have been on the list."

"Oh! Can you tell me about it? I want to know about this three-headed dog of yours. Was it dangerous? How big was it? Did it have a name? Did you fight it?" She turned to her laughing brother. "Jon, can we come back later? Let's bring Bram the next time. You know he'll want to talk to the wizard as well. He's ever so fond of magic."

"I don't know, maybe. This might be too much, even for Bram. Most of the louts here think Harry is like the Others."

"Impossible! He's nothing like the Others!" Arya denied. "He's just a boy."

"A magical boy," Harry commented.

"But a boy nonetheless," Jon replied.

"For a boy, I am surprised you're taking this whole situation so graciously. Most would fear being locked in a cell. Who knows what Father has planned for you. Not that I think he'll hurt you, of course, it's just that he has to make a show of it. He's not a bad man, Harry. Please don't think any less of him, but he's in charge of running this household, so he has to show you up, even if you are wizard."

Harry raised both his hands defensively. "You don't have to justify your father's actions, I understand, really I do, and that's no lie. People fear magic, fear it strongly. Also, I may have taken things a bit too far with the boulder."

"Just a little?" Jon laughed.

Arya smiled and her longish face made it look like grin.

"I'd like to think that," Harry said. He couldn't help it, he had to smile too. "By the way, your sister was looking at me- no, not Arya- Sansa, I think. I'd guess I am not very popular with her today, am I? What is the story behind her and Prince Joffrey, anyway?"

Arya and Jon looked at each other. The two scowled, then looked back at Harry. "Ever heard of love at first sight?" Jon said, his face turning cold.

"Oh. I see." It was one of those situations.

Arya looked like she was going to burst. "I hate him! He's so- so- Jon, help me out here, what's a good word for the Prince?"

"Ass?"

Arya giggled. "Good one." She turned to the boy in the cell who still hadn't gotten a good explanation. "Sansa thinks the Prince is her knight in shining armor. Ever since he grew like a tree, she's been pining for him day and night. She doesn't even know anything about Joffrey, but she thinks he's perfect. She doesn't seem to care that he's rude to others and hates us. I am not even sure she realizes that Joffrey looks down on her, and wouldn't even bother to look up her name if his mother didn't keep telling him to be nice to her in the dinner table."

"So she likes him because he's good looking?" Harry pondered. "But… he looks so girly!"

Jon barked out laughing. Arya followed. "You think that too, do you? I would imagine from a distance he looks like a fair lady wearing a man's plate of armor- at least on the days he thinks he should be wearing his armor. Sometimes I wonder why they even allow him a sword, a real one." Jon sat down next to Arya. Arya walked over and sat on his lap. "You would think Uncle Robert's son would take after him, but no. The resemblance between the two stops there, if there is one to start with."

"Uncle Robert?"

"The king of Westeros!" Arya proclaimed. "How could you not know this?"

"I am not from here. Let's just say that where I come from, kings have been gone for a very long time." He shuddered, thinking about some of the madness Kings of the past had gone through in History of Magic. If there were Kings in this day and age he knew he would be in trouble. Noble Lords were one thing, Kings... Kings were the scum of the Earth.

Heck, the idea of a monarchy seemed crazy in Harry's opinion. Why allow one insane man to rule over all the realm? Sure, democracy wasn't perfect, there was a lot of corruption involved, but it allowed for free speech, and with free speech, one could change the world. The power to transform a country lay in the power to communicate, and a King, for all intents and purposes, was a ruler who specifically oppressed all words that were against his rule.

"Enough with this. Arya, let's go." He picked up his little sister, who hugged her older brother. Jon Snow got up and walked out of the dungeon. Harry smiled as Arya waved back at him sleeply; it must have been near her bedtime. It was getting dark, and cold- very cold. Perhaps he should ask Sir Rodrick, the person guarding him, for a fire?"

"Is there a blanket I can use?"

"No, be quiet and wait for your summons."

Sir Rodrick was a grumpy man, Harry thought.

* * *

** Winterfell, Throne of Winterfell**

"You don't have to bow down to me. I did not ask you to do such. If you would simply stand, that would be most splendid. Do forgive me if I ask you to keep your distance, and also that I keep a few of my men with me. After that display at the courtyard, I am wary of what other talents you may display." Lord Stark grimaced. "Considering the boulder shattered before the sword even touched it."

Harry Potter groaned. He was afraid of this. He tried to think of something, something that would get him out of this. "Would you believe me if I said I was just a normal being, possessed by a wizard trapped in a hat?" He laughed nervously. "You wouldn't burn a boy would you?"

"This is Westeros. A land in constant war, so tell me what do you believe?" He paused. "Wizard."

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**15,000 words** for chapter one! How many other authors can claim this? Here is my first real attempt at writing Harry Potter and A Game of Thrones. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed my work because I am not an English major, I am not a popular author, I am not rich, nor am I poor. I just like A Song of Ice and Fire. It took me a long time to write this, so please write a review, a constructive one! I want to know my full potential as an author, and this is my first real attempt at FFN.

Have a wonderful day, evening, afternoon, dusk, or dawn. Thank you so much for reading. If you leave a review I promise I will send you a reply!

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Beta work by Seven Silver Stars, you rock! Yes, my Beta is popular, but I am not…


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